A Fashion Disaster
by Darkhymns
Summary: Is having a poor choice in clothing hereditary or learned? Kratos isn't entirely sure.


Kratos felt a tugging at his waistband. He looked down to see a one-year old child latching onto him.

"Lloyd?" He bent down to be as close to eye-level with his young son, but the boy ignored him, keeping his tiny hands firmly around one of the leather belts that made up Kratos' outfit.

"So, you are interested in my accessories."

Little Lloyd pointed at the belt, then to himself – or more accurately, at his clothes.

"You would like some belts of your own?"

Lloyd nodded.

"I do not think your mother would approve."

Lloyd then proceeded to chew on said belt vigorously. Probably something he had picked up from Noishe.

With a barely perceptible smile, Kratos gently extracted Lloyd from his clothes. "Come on. We promised your mother we would meet up with her in the market." He hefted Lloyd up, seating him atop his shoulders so he could hold onto his legs. Lloyd's hands grabbed at Kratos' spiky hair, pulling at it excitedly until, when he grew bored of that activity, he went on to try eating the hair instead. He mouthed around Kratos' scalp, getting saliva everywhere.

Kratos didn't reprimand him, instead following down the cobblestone path of the village they had stayed at today, ignoring some of the smiles and laughs from the people around him. _I suppose I could order Lloyd an outfit similar to mine,_ he thought wistfully, and with some pride. Though he still wore the trappings of Cruxis, he had come up with the design himself, and was almost disappointed that he would have to do away with it in order to blend in with the Sylvarant population. He wondered if his son would want the straps on the sleeves of his own outfit as well, to match his father's. _The boy is observant. It's good to know he will have a proper sense about things as well._

When young Lloyd ripped out a patch of his hair, Kratos barely reacted. He was already imagining what else Lloyd would learn from him.

* * *

"Dad! _Dad!"_

"Boy, I'm right here. Ya don't need to be yelling my ear off."

The eight-year old slammed his palms on the table, staring hard at the dwarf's back as he worked on his project, cooling some freshly-molded steel. "I want a really cool outfit!" He brought his hands up to the air, fists clenched. "A really cool outfit that heroes wear!"

"Well, if that's what ya want, I can't argue." Despite Dirk's main talent in metal-working and wood-crafting, he was well-versed in many other areas, such as cooking, reading and writing, and tailoring. It was in the Dwarven vows that a man must learn to be self-sufficient, a lesson he had trouble teaching his adopted son. "I'll give ya an outfit like mind! Be just like your old man!"

Lloyd shook his head. "But I want something…" He visibly struggled for the right word. "I want something way cooler! Like people have to see it, and _know_ that I'm a hero!"

Dirk would have to tell him later that it was dangerous to be a sword-wielding hero nowadays, but maybe the boy would grow out of it. And what harm could there be in making a silly outfit for him? "So, you need to choose a heroic color then. One that can be seen for miles around."

Lloyd's eyes were wide. "Red!" he shouted. He jumped on the table with his dirty shoes. "I choose red!"

"Lloyd, get yer feet off the table! We eat there!"

The boy complied, only to rush over to the dwarf. "And! And belts! Lots of belts!"

Well, that came out of nowhere. "Why belts?"

"Because…" Here, Lloyd concentrated on the thought, his forehead scrunched. "Um, I dunno. It just seems like something heroes would wear. Right?"

Dirk wasn't sure, but he then nodded his head – to humor the boy's fantasies. "Of course. But, well, we don't have to go overboard with the belts. Just have them on your pants like most people."

Lloyd frowned. "But that's boring! I should, like, have belts on my arms, and like," he made frantic motions with his hands, "around my chest and all that!"

"Now, Lloyd, I have the next best thing.." Dirk went over to a corner, retreating something from a pile of junk. He then pulled out what looked like straps, much longer than a regular belt would be.

"A real man wears suspenders! They're like belts, but meant for your upper body, so you can look sensible, but still heroic."

Lloyd stared at the proffered suspenders, his own body draped in an overly-large shirt and loose trousers – hand me downs from the dwarf. Then his eyes sparkled, and his mouth grinned wide.

"Yeah, that's perfect!"

* * *

"…And _that'_ s how I got my outfit!" Lloyd concluded, crossing his arms over his chest, nodding proudly.

Colette was clapping her hands excitedly, seated next to him on the log. "Wow, that's great, Lloyd!"

Genis, cross-legged on the sand, was less than impressed. "Colette, we already know this. He always tells us this story every month."

"But it gets better every time!"

Lloyd shot a fist in the air at her praise. "Yeah, it totally does!"

" _Children,_ that's enough for now. Time to sleep." Raine walked over, dragging her little brother by the arm to send him to bed, ignoring his whines. "Kratos will be taking the first watch, so there's no excuse for any of you to be staying up."

"Ahh, but I can't sleep now.."

"Lloyd, do you think your father would make me a cool outfit, too?"

"Hey, yeah! We can dye it red just like mine!" Lloyd turned around to face Colette fully, his eyes bright. "We can have matching belts and everything!"

As Kratos walked towards a sleeping Noishe, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the Chosen and her very loud, very brightly-dressed friend.

He had denied the possibility of Lloyd's origins for a while now, but once both him and Genis caught up to them in the Triet Desert, he had to come to terms with his knowledge. This was his and Anna's son – he even shared her last name. Features that echoed familiarity were not lost upon him. And even if that weren't enough, both the sight of Anna's gravestone and Noishe's existence drove home the fact that his son was alive, happy, and well.

And that he had a terrible fashion sense.

It was such a selfish notion, but Kratos always indulged in his self-pity. A vital failing of him, he knew. Still, the delightful ideas he had harbored once, that Lloyd would one day share Kratos' clothing choices, came crashing to the ground.

 _Suspenders…_ he thought in non-belief. _Is this what happens when one is raised by a dwarf?_

* * *

"I'm going on a journey," Lloyd told him. "I'm going to collect all the Exspheres remaining in this land. So that no one can ever abuse them again."

With both of them standing in the ruins of the Tower, Kratos nodded to that plan. "And I will discard all of Cruxis' Exspheres into space… I've dragged you into this until the very end."

"That's okay," Lloyd responded, his voice sincere.

Kratos knew he should be embarking soon to Derris-Kharlan. It was useless to drag out farewells, but his selfishness peaked again, making him search for other avenues of conversation that he could share with his son. It would be the last memory he would have of him, he needed to make it worthwhile. Perhaps he could give him some advice?

"The journey will no doubt be difficult, especially as there will be those who refuse to part with their Exspheres."

"I know," Lloyd agreed. Then he smiled wide. "But I won't be alone. Colette's coming along, too!"

"Oh?" Kratos raised an eyebrow, noting the air of happiness that surrounded Lloyd. It set his old heart at ease. "That is good to hear. So you are both prepared?"

"Yeah! She's already at my, um, Dad's," here Lloyd paused, as if afraid Kratos would take offense. No, Dirk had every right to be Lloyd's father. Maybe more. "And she's helping getting things ready, like our food and clothes and – oh yeah! Since we're going on another adventure, we got her a new outfit, too!"

"A new outfit?"

"Yeah, yeah! She wanted a cool hero outfit like mine!" Lloyd was practically bouncing on his feet. He had apparently been very eager to share the news. "So I gave her one of my sets!"

Kratos felt uneasy suddenly. "Yours…"

"Now when people see us, they're gonna see double the heroes!" Lloyd nodded with utmost conviction. "Colette actually has my old set. She seems to like it a lot for some reason."

"Your _old set?"_

"Oh, well at one point, she fell into the river by my house, so I just gave her mine. I mean, uh, I guess it was weird for me to just strip in front of her like that now that I think about."

Kratos had no words.

"But yeah! She likes the outfit a lot now. Dad says it's too baggy on her, but she wants to keep it. And um, I think she looks really good in it!"

Kratos struggled to say something else. But it took too much of his mental power to process his son's words. Now Colette would be wearing… bright red… with suspenders. And it was an old, _worn-out_ version of the outfit as well.

 _I'm sorry, Lloyd… it's because I wasn't there to raise you…_

"Hey, did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all," Kratos quickly replied. "Only… you are very fortunate to have someone like Colette help you on your journey." And he truly did mean that.

Lloyd reflexively scratched behind his ear, his expression a bit more somber, but still content. "Yeah. I'm really glad to have her."

After a few more encouraging words, Kratos finally deigned it was time for him to go. With a final look at his son, he took in the image of the young man that he knew would succeed in what he set out to do, no matter the odds.

And that he would do so in the most glaring outfit possible, with Colette mirroring his choices. (Multiple buttons that went nowhere, with two useless neck ribbons that only helped the enemy by giving them something to grab onto, and of course, the suspenders). They would be like two bright red robins fluttering through the forests.

Yet even then, it made him smile.

Lloyd, with a wave that brought to mind the excitable child that Kratos had once carried on his shoulders, shouted one last farewell. "Goodbye… Dad!"

He trusted Lloyd to make the right choices, no matter what they were. He was content in that knowledge.

 _Still…_ he mused once he was back on Derris-Kharlan. _I can send a message to Yuan later… Perhaps he could give Lloyd some advice on color-coordination at the very least…_


End file.
